Things were going pretty well for Freddie and Molly, all in all, considering they had to keep their personal relationship under wraps. He all but lived with her; though none of his stuff was there he showed up most every night with a change of clothes and his shaving kit, and had mastered a variety of routes, parking places, and disguises so nobody seemed the wiser. Work was going fine; the show came off hiatus, fan club activity was busy though manageable and there were no personal appearances scheduled for the time being. The People's Choice Awards show was coming up, and Freddie had been nominated for best supporting actor in a comedy series, with Jack being nominated for best lead actor in the same category.
"You old goat, you upstaged me again," Freddie joked at the script meeting where the nominations were announced, whereupon Jack broke everyone up with his parody of an old saying, "Never forget, my boy, age and stealth will always overcome dimples and tight jeans." The show was up for favorite comedy series, and everyone at Komack was flying high.
The day after the announcement, Molly waved the nomination notice in front of Freddie, who was busily signing yet more photos.
"So, Mr. Nominee, you need a date for the show?" She assumed the answer would be an emphatic "Yes", as he hadn't been making the usual rounds of available women in the couple of months since they'd been together. She was in for a surprise when Freddie looked up awkwardly.
"Uh, actually no I don't."
"You can't mean you're not going?" Molly figured he was kidding. "You have to go, charm boy, you're a nominee."
"I'm going." Freddie looked like he'd rather run out the door than explain, but explain he did. "What I mean is… I mean I don't need a date. The publicity office set me up with somebody."
"Huh? 'Set you up' why?" Publicity, she understood it had to be a P.R. thing, and though she handled some of that for Freddie for fan clubs and things like that, most of it was under the Publicity department umbrella. Studios did stuff like that all the time, kind of a throwback to "old Hollywood", pairing successful actors with the up-and-coming ones for public events.
Freddie looked very uncomfortable. "Well he says people are starting to ask questions, you know, like why the former playboy is suddenly making like a monk. You've seen the tabloids. If they look too close they're gonna see what's really going on."
Molly had to admit this wasn't news, though she'd been managing to ignore it. "Oh. Okay, yeah, I guess he's right. So who they hook you up with?"
"Lisa Farringer."
Molly gulped. Lisa Farringer was a young, gorgeous blonde model featured on a popular game show who was on the verge of breaking into movies. Of course in her case they were blonde slut roles in some of the new crop of blaxploitation flicks but hey, a gig was a gig. "That blonde from Break the Bank, right?" She felt better focusing on the gig where Lisa wore slightly more clothes.
"Yeah. I don't know her, never met her. They just figure it would look good for us to show up together, you know? Divert attention and all that, maybe give her a boost publicity-wise. No gossip column plants or anything, just go to the show together."
"Oh." Molly's displeasure was obvious, but she was surprised to feel it. She knew the business inside and out, and this kind of thing was no big deal. But professional logic didn't stand a chance once annoyance took over.
"So when were you planning on telling me? Or were you gonna wait until I saw you on heading for the limo?"
Freddie threw down the pen and pushed his chair away from the desk. "Look, Molly, I know you were looking forward to going. I don't like this either, but P.R. is getting nervous and when they get nervous, Jimmy gets nervous, and when Jimmy gets nervous I get nervous. You understand?"
She nodded silently, miserably disappointed. Not only couldn't she go with Freddie and give him some moral support, and party with him afterward, some young beauty would be hanging on his arm. Young. "Well, I guess I have to understand, don't I? So did Jimmy say you have to go to the dinner with her and everything?"
"Yeah. And I have to show face at the party afterwards, it's a big public thing because the viewers and fans do the voting. I am not happy about this, Molly, but I can't afford to argue with Jimmy. We can't afford it." He stood up, and ventured, "Wanna hug?" She nodded, trying not to frown, and stepped into his arms. He squeezed her very tightly against him. "Love you, besita, I do, and I promise I'll give you the high sign if I win, okay?"
Her dark side took over again. "You mean this one?" She stepped back and stuck her middle finger up in front of his face.
"Well I was thinking of something else." He gave a "camera wink" and a thumb's up. "How's that?" When she remained stone-faced he mugged the most exaggerated frown he could manage. "Okay, I get it. When mami ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."
He called her 'mami' when she was being a bitch. Even though he'd explained it was a term of affection, she couldn't get past the idea that it sounded like another name for "mother", and it pushed the few buttons she had that were sensitive to their age difference. Once he'd figured that out, Freddie saved it for times like this, as a signal she needed to lighten up.
"On second thought I'll watch for the other one," she grumbled.
Freddie laughed and hugged her tight again, then let her go and went back to "signing my face", as he called it. Molly wasn't at all surprised that Jimmy had left it to Freddie to tell her about this "setup". James Komack always knew how to pick his battles, and when to hand them off to someone else who could finesse them better.
For Molly, the greater indignity was that she would have to handle the arrangements for the car, had to notify Lisa when she'd be picked up by Freddie's limo, and supply an itinerary to Lisa's agent. The last one was a little reassuring, reminding her that for Farringer's people it was a gig, not a date.
"This sucks," she told Freddie frankly a few days before the awards show. When his familiar eye-roll began she pointed out, "Well you're the actor, I'm not. And I'm tired of acting like it doesn't suck."
"I'm sorry, really," he swore, dropping to his knees and clenching his hands in front of him. "I want you to come with me, not some blonde bimbo. I want my own bimbo by my side, I swear to God."
"Enough, okay? I'm willing to admit she's probably just a victim of publicity circumstance, like you."
"Oh yeah sure," Freddie snorted and jumped to his feet. "And this won't help her tits and ass career at all to be seen with me, huh?"
"I guess it might make her life easier," Molly mused, then added with a quick grin, "She'll handle the tits, and you'll take care of the ass." She reached out and goosed him.
Quick as lightning, out came his Groucho persona as he waggled his eyebrows and an invisible cigar. "If I'm lucky I'll be handling the tits along with her."
"Ees not your yob, señor," she deadpanned and handed him a sheet of paper. "Here's your copy of the night's itinerary."
He laughed when he got to the part that said, Dance like you're in Catholic school… eighteen inches between you at all times.
"You mean the same eighteen inches that're between you and me, bébé?" he growled, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her against him.
"Exaggerating again, huh? And hell no." She pushed away and went back to her desk.
"Well how about I don't dance at all?" he suggested, serious this time.
"Well Jimmy might make you. To counteract the monk impression. The bastard."
When the day of the show came Freddie had to get ready and leave by three thirty. Molly was still working when he stepped into her office in a brand new tux, even classier than the one he wore to the Emmy's.
She whistled and waved both hands as if to dissipate a hot flash.
"Ooh you look delicious. I don't know if I like that."
"Well maybe I can ugly up a little," he mused then added, "but it's so hard."
Okay, she had to laugh at that one, then got up to fix his bow tie. "You'll never get these right," she chided as she fixed the knot and evened up the wings, then straightened his ruffled cuffs.
"Gimme a kiss. You can't come with me, so kiss me now and I'll try to have a good time." She looked uncertain.
"The hell with Chico's house. Keeeesss me, pretty," he purred in an exaggerated Spanish accent, and flashed his melting smile. She gave in and kissed him; he held her there for a long while. She felt something in his pocket.
"What's this?" She reached in and fished out the silver clip he'd pulled from her hair at the Emmy after party. A million years ago, it seemed. "I wondered where that had gone!"
He took it back from her and replaced it in his pocket. "I'm carrying it for luck. I sure got lucky the first time!" He slapped a serious look on his face. "I mean the award, of course! Watch for the high sign. I might even give it if I lose." Finally he dropped the jokes and ran his fingers through her hair. Are you sure you don't mind this too much?"
"Do you love me?"
"Of course I love you." He gave her a sloppy hug to prove it.
"Then I don't mind. Well not too much anyway. Love you too, Freddie. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you." She held them up to demonstrate and he pulled them to his lips for a kiss.
"I'll come by your place after. Don't mind if I'm late, okay? I'll use my key."
"Okay. Wake me up when you come in."
"Bet on it, mama." She never minded when he called her that, he made it sound way to sexy to object to. He kissed her again and left.
Later that night Molly curled up on her sofa at home with a cup of tea and watched the red carpet arrivals for the awards show. Freddie strolled up the carpet with Miss Lisa Blonde Bombshell Farringer on his arm. A glowing, young blonde who smiled beautifully and didn't look the least bit nervous about the crowds, she didn't look at all like Molly must have looked at the Emmy's when she was hanging onto Freddie for dear life. Right now Freddie and Lisa looked so good together it made Molly's stomach hurt. She noticed that neither one of them was answering any questions shouted by the press, but Lisa did seem to smile more brightly when asked "How long have you and Freddie been dating?" Molly snickered when she noticed Freddie yank his arm to pull her along faster.
To nobody's great surprise "Chico and the Man" won the comedy series award, and Jack and Freddie won the favorite comic actor and supporting awards. Lisa kissed Freddie's cheek when he was announced.
Molly stewed. "You don't even know him," she growled at the television.
Freddie gave the wink and thumb's up when he got to the stage, thanking all the "usual suspects" and, as usual thanking Molly last for "keeping my freaky boat floating." Molly didn't want to think about the big after party, the one she should be at. She sighed and went to bed.
Molly was freezing. Something was wrong with the a/c, but she was so deep into sleepiness she couldn't get it together to find the quilt she'd kicked onto the floor. She cracked an eye to look at the bedside clock. It was close to two a.m. She reached for Freddie, but he wasn't there yet. Shit. She rolled up in a chilly ball and, hugging her pillow, faded out again.
Some time later the bed moved and she woke up a little. "Freddie?" she mumbled blearily.
"Yeah, chica, what's up in here? This room is like the North Pole! You're shaking to pieces."
"Cold, I'm cold," she complained.
"Of course you're cold, you got the a/c stuck on high and you don't have any blankets!" He turned down the air conditioner and picked the quilt and blanket up off the floor, piling them on Molly her before shedding his tux and joining her in bed.
"Cold," she whined and snuggled up to him.
He shuddered. "No kidding." He rubbed her briskly all over and held her close. "Better?"
"Mmm, warm," she mumbled and pressed closer against him, resting her face against his neck. She could feel him smile. She knew she was like a little kid when she was sleeping, she couldn't help it. It was one of the few times he seemed older than she was.
"Yeah, pretty, I'll keep you warm. Go back to sleep now." And she did, warm and content.
"Wake up, Carlito."
Molly nudged Freddie for the second (or was it the third?) time. It was barely light out.
"Tell me about last night."
"Mmfff, it still is last night," he grunted. "I'm beat, ask me later."
She was leaning above him on an elbow, and ignored his complaint. "Did you have fun?"
Oh, man… He knew she wouldn't leave him alone until he answered. "Not really. Dinner was a bust, we were sitting with Jack and Annette and Jimmy and Ruth Komack and Scat and his daughter. Lisa was okay I guess but the rest of us were talking about the show, and other work we've done, and she's just on that dumbass game show thing and those stupid low budget flicks, so she just kinda sat there and smiled a lot. The End." He turned his face into the pillow, in case she missed the point. No luck. She poked him again.
"She kissed you when you won. What was that about?"
"How should I know? It's not like I asked her to. I don't even know her."
"What about the after party? Did you dance at the party? Did Jack and everybody go too?"
"Yeah the whole crew came this time. We danced a little, but just like good Catholics," he groaned, giving up. "I danced with Annette and Scat's daughter, mostly. They were babysitting me I think."
The two women knew about Freddie's relationship with her and were mindful of his age and history. Like Jack and Jimmy they didn't want to see anybody get hurt.
"She doesn't know about us, does she?"
"Hell no, when would that come up?" He groaned again and rolled over on his face. "Come on, Molly, gimme a break. I had to go out with a stranger. What do you want me to say? She told me at the party I seemed 'distracted'."
"Were you?" She was beginning to feel like a teenager quizzing her brother on his prom date. But he wasn't her brother, and right now she didn't care how she sounded.
"Well yeah, who do you think I was thinking about, huh? Who did I know was sitting alone in front of the TV? I was thinking if you were there with me I wouldn't have to be such a good Catholic dancer, right?"
"Sure you would." She laughed and kissed the nape of his neck, then settled herself across his back, her mouth near his ear. "I'm sorry, Carlito. I was just so green last night, I wanted to be there so bad and worse, I had to set up this date of yours."
"It wasn't a 'date.'" His voice was muffled but Molly heard every word.
"That's not what they said on TV. 'Freddie Prinze and date Lisa Farringer make their way down the red carpet outside the pavilion,' that's what they said."
"Did they say anything like 'Freddie Prinze's personal assistant Molly O'Rourke is sitting at home sulking'?"
"I was not sulking."
He snorted into the pillow. "Not much. Tomorrow I'm gonna look for the drool marks on the rug where your lip was dragging."
She rolled away. "Fine. Next time I'll make sure I wear tap shoes and dance the night away. Alone."
He turned his head and regarded her with a bloodshot, bleary stare.
"There ain't gonna be a 'next time.' I told Jimmy that before I left. I told him if I can't go with you I'll go solo and fuck the press."
She frowned. "Not necessarily the best idea, Freddie."
Giving up, he flopped over on his back. "Fine. You were miserable, I was miserable. You were pissed off I went, and now you tell me it's not a good idea to say 'no' if it happens again. Lisa seemed like she was having a great time, like she figured it was some kind of blind date or something, but I wasn't what you'd call charming. Of course she had plenty of photos taken of us, and I'd say that couldn't hurt her career. If she had one. The hell with Jimmy anyway."
"Gimme a kiss, Carlito," she coaxed.
"Oh all right, if I have to." He betrayed just a hint of the "sly look" as he pulled her over him and lowered her mouth to his. She could feel the smile in his kiss. She loved when he did that.
Now she disengaged herself as another question occurred to her. "So wait... did Jimmy would agree to let you go solo from now on?" She couldn't believe that, given the reasons he'd done this in the first place.
"Not exactly. He said I don't have to go out with Lisa again, but for other stuff Publicity will hook me up with other girls. Actresses and stuff. But not too often, I guess. He doesn't wanna make up some story about me and anybody particular. Just make me look like that hot playboy again."
"Well okay, I guess. Not like I have a choice, huh? I guess whatever keeps people from asking questions is good."
Finally Freddie looked pissed off. "Well screw people, okay? Why can't I go out places with you, huh? Why can't we just say 'we're together, deal with it?'" When she looked taken aback he added, "Well you're not the only one tired of acting like it doesn't suck... I may win awards but I'm not that good."
Molly laid across Freddie's chest and kissed the edge of his mustache.
"You know why. We both know why. No need to pick it apart again."
"Well I'm sick of acting like we're breaking some law or something."
"I thought you liked being 'naughty'," she tried to tease him out of his mood, feeling guilty for bringing it on
"Well it's getting old, okay?" It was his turn to sulk.
"I'm sorry this makes life so hard for you. You're young, you deserve it a little easier."
That just set him off more. "What, like I should be screwing whatever slows down long enough? No thanks. I like this better," he ran his hands down her back and over her ass. "I like knowing who I'm gonna wake up next to. and I like doing it more than once in a row."
"'Once' in a row? That doesn't make sense."
"You're so goddamn picky, picky, picky." But he was smiling as he ran his hands over her again, only this time he didn't stop. "But you are also nice and soft and warm. Ay, I can deal with picky, I guess."
"Good, because picky is what keeps your ass on time and in order. As for the rest, well I do what I can." She smiled widely. He gently touched the corner of her eye with a fingertip.
"I love the way your eyes squinch up at the corners when you smile."
"They're called 'crow's feet', smooth talker. Comes with age."
"Well I love 'em. It's like your eyes are smiling along with your mouth," he traced her lips with the same finger. She puckered up and he pressed his fingertip into the middle. "Soft."
"You too." Her hands echoed the movement of his, tracing along the skin she found unbelievably soft. She squirmed a little against him, just to feel their skin-to-skin contact.
"I love you Carlito," she said quietly. "I don't like you having to be hooked up with other girls, not even a little bit, even if I understand why Jimmy is doing it. Who knows, maybe he is doing it really to help us, to take the attention away. But I want to say the hell with the press too, I wanna just go out with you in public and say 'what's it to you?'" She sighed, and kissed the middle of his chest, over his heart. "But. But. But you know what."
He gave her a squeeze. "Yeah, but. I know 'but' what."
Molly shifted gears again. "It's early, Freddie. Let's go back to sleep for a while."
"How early?" He finally looked at the clock, and his red eyes bugged out.
"My God, woman, you woke me up at seven-thirty to ask me about a woman I don't know and a party I didn't have fun at? You are gonna drive me crazy."
She was smiling innocently. "Actually it was seven when I woke you up."
"Well shit, I'm young but I still need more than four hours of sleep!"
"Oops. Sorry."
"I'll give you oops," he slipped his hands between them and tweaked her nipples. "Take that. Hah." She snuggled down on him and pulled his arms around her.
"Well I guess you put me in my place. Let's sleep a while longer, okay?"
"Sure. If I don't I'll be useless all day. Nighty-night."
Molly woke up again at ten o'clock wrapped up against Freddie. His tux was in a heap on the chair next to the bed. Shit. How many more women did Jimmy have in line for him? A deep sigh escaped her.
"Being with you is getting to be like hanging in a wind tunnel, you know that?" Freddie mumbled. His eyes were still closed.
"Sorry."
"Enough with 'sorry.' How about you make it up to me," he growled, grinding his hips against her.
"Not now. I gotta get up, I have work to do." His arms tightened around her.
"I wanna stay with you like this forever. Since time all alone is all we got, I don't wanna give it up."
"Don't worry, we're not giving anything up. I just gotta get to work, or our best excuse for 'time alone' will dry up!"
He wouldn't let go. "You gotta promise me something."
"What's that?" She tried to pry herself away but he was too strong.
"No matter what messed up stuff Jimmy gets me involved in, you gotta trust that I love you and that I'm not gonna screw us up. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay. I promise."
"Look me in the eye, Molly, and promise me."
So she did, she looked into the eyes that pulled at her soul. "I swear, Freddie, I do. I'll never doubt you."
"Okay." He let her go and watched her dress.
She went to the living room and picked up the paper that had been left outside the door. On the cover of the entertainment section was a front-and-center photo of Freddie and his 'date' for the awards the night before. She threw it in the trash, hard enough to knock the bin over. Freddie had just come out of the bedroom, dressed not in his tux but jeans and a t shirt he'd brought in his overnight bag.
"What's the matter, Molly?" He peered into the trash and saw the photo of him and Lisa Farringer. He took Molly's coffee mug from her hand and kissed her gently. "Come on, you forget your promise already?"
"It's not you," she insisted, "really it's not about you. But sooner or later somebody is gonna take it seriously, you know? One of these decoy-women is gonna take it seriously. I mean look at her, Freddie!" She fished the paper out of the trash. "She looks like somebody out on a real date with a really hot guy! She is looking like she owns you! I don't believe for a minute that her people told her that it was just a gig." To her horror she burst into tears.
"I don't like it like this, Freddie, I don't like hiding in the dark and you going out with somebody else when I wanna be there. Nobody goes out with me to throw people off the trail, do they? I just don't matter here, do I?"
He took her face in his hands and brushed at her tears with his thumbs, looking down at her the trace of a patient smile.
"Come on, Molly, calm down. Of course you matter, but it's me everybody is staring at. Nobody owns me, you know that. I didn't give that Lisa any reason to believe last night was anything but publicity and an office setup. C'mon, querida, you made the rules remember? None of this, none of that, a deal with Jimmy. All that shit. And even though I bitched out loud, it's working isn't it?"
She stood looking up at him, feeling stupid and ridiculous. He was right, she was the one who pulled him into her bed and then laid down the law, but she couldn't calm down, she couldn't let it go.
"But I just don't want Jimmy to give you a reason to change your mind. Even if he doesn't mean to, even if you don't want to, he could do that." She managed to contain her tears and sat down on the sofa. "God, Freddie, I didn't mean for this to happen. I loved you, you know I did, we were close all along and friends and now really together, but I never meant to lose myself in it like this. I don't wanna lose myself, and be all weird and worried and all the time a basket case."
Freddie sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Don't let it scare you. You're not losing yourself, our life's weird, not you. For me too. Publicity hookups aren't gonna make me change my mind. Sure things like last night feel screwed up, but it's all stuff like last night that'll keep us safe, right?"
"I think you mean the show, don't you?" she asked sharply. "'Safe', yeah sure. Nothing makes me feel safe anymore." She struggled for control but couldn't keep from crying again. "I'm sorry Freddie, I'm sorry, I'm just crazy, aren't I?"
He bent over next to her, reaching his arms around her, trying to wipe her tears away.
"Chica don't cry, please don't cry. I never know what to do when you cry, tell me how to make it better, huh?"
Molly shook her head, having no answer. "Just hold me, okay, hold me Freddie, sometimes I can't stand not knowing how this will turn out, like a movie with no ending…"
"Okay then, just hang on and you'll be okay," he pulled her close to him and held her tight.
She knew how hard he was fighting just to keep up, and she hated making him do it.
With her still bundled up against him he asked her, "What brought all this up, querida, what do you think busted this loose?" She knew, but hesitated. "Come on, you can tell me anything, you always could tell me anything. What are you so afraid of?"
"When I was watching you last night, there you were on that little screen with that woman who looked so good with you, you looked so good together, and I couldn't touch you or talk to you, you were just this little lit up thing. and I thought what if that's how it happens, what if someday there's somebody who looks so good and can stand with you there where I can't. I don't think I'm making sense, am I? I'm just so scared, Carlito, that you'll change your mind about us and think you made a bad decision." She could feel him sigh.
"I don't have any answers for you, I'm sorry but I don't. All I can do is love you and hold you and tell you I'm here. I'm sorry but it's the best I can do… I'm only twenty three, I'm sorry, you're just too far ahead of me with some things." he whispered against her shoulder. She shifted in his arms until she was cradled firmly against him.
"I'm okay. I just have these, I dunno, outbursts you know?"
"Yeah, I know. Hey, this can't be easy. I go here and there with everybody and you just work and hang out. You work too hard, I think. You need some time off."
"But I need it with you. Stupid, right. You're off hiatus and even if you could skulk around more often, you've got way more work than I do now. I'm such a whiny brat."
"Nah. You're not that whiny." He rocked her in his arms. "I love you, Molly, I always have. Don't be scared, I won't ever let this hurt you."
She lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him deeply. After a minute she worked her hands into his hair to hold him to her. When finally she let him take a breath he moaned, "I could eat you up, mama."
"Promise?"
He dropped his head back and laughed. "You only wanna seduce me, that's all you've ever done. Well if all we got is time alone, I guess I can live with it. I know guys who never get time alone with their ladies. That's all I got. I guess we got no right to complain," he scooped her up in his arms and took her into the bedroom. "You don't have that much work to do today!" he assured her in a sultry voice.
"I thought I was the one doing the seducing."
"Not today." He explored her mouth with his tongue while working his way under her clothes. He made love to her carefully, as if she were fragile and easily broken. No "yeah, yeah" this time, but "I love you," over and over in English and Spanish, until her tears were dried and she clung to him with passion instead of fear. As he lay in her arms catching his breath he ran his mouth over her shoulder and neck, repeating "I love you, Molly, I love you."
She stroked his hair and told him, "I think I get it. I love you too, I believe every word you tell me. That's dangerous, you know, but you don't scare me. You make me feel safe, the only one who does in all this crazy town."
He kissed her breast. "Nothing wrong with crazy."
Then it was her turn to make him feel loved, touching and kissing him all over, all over, and riding him gently and slowly as his eyes locked on her and he whimpered and groaned her name. "I love you, Carlito, Freddie, I love you," she moaned to him, bending to his ears to kiss them and whisper their secret to him, "I love you," and in the last minutes he rolled her next to him so they could meet on their sides, face to face, equals in everything but age. They devoured each other, clung hard to each other, mad with wanting and crazy with pleasure. They lay joined together for a long time afterward, dozing lightly, heads pressed to each other's shoulders.
After a while Molly told Freddie reluctantly, "We can't stay here all day."
"Why not? I'm young, I got stamina." She sensed he was only half joking.
"It's Monday. Gotta get to the office. It's late already, almost noon. Come on, we gotta act like working people here."
"Well you just gave me a workout, let me tell you."
"Ha, ha." She got out of bed, not bothering to reach for her robe. I'm gonna grab a shower, you coming?"
"I think I just did."
She stood glaring, hands on hips. "They are gonna lock you up," she warned.
"They gotta catch me first." She didn't move, only lifted her chin defiantly, so he added, "Y'know there is nothing quite as hot as a naked woman with a bad attitude," he told her as he got out of bed. "Care to go another round in the 'rain' ? I know I'm ready."
She saw where he was pointing, and shook her head, laughing. "Oh, come on then, it'd be a shame to waste that."
"I couldn't agree more."